


The Joyous Innocence of Love

by voxpraxis



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Auguste (Captive Prince) Lives, Auguste is King, Flowers, Fluff, Husbands, M/M, Nicaise (Captive Prince) Lives, Pillow Talk, Reminiscing, Symbolism, capriweek2k17, ft. Damen's dimple, nicaise is a palace performer, the regent never existed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 07:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11709732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voxpraxis/pseuds/voxpraxis
Summary: He was struck, suddenly, by the knowledge that Laurent was a man now, no longer the overly energetic little boy who loved flowers and sunshine and silly, frivolous things. It wasn’t that Auguste hadn’t known that his brother was a man before now -- of course he had -- but the weight of what he was about to do brought him a new appreciation of Laurent’s maturity.---For CapriWeek2k17!Day 4 - "He would do anything for his little brother." / Day 7 - Gardens





	The Joyous Innocence of Love

**Author's Note:**

> I would say I'm proud of this. Just a little.

It was exactly three weeks after Laurent’s twenty-second birthday when Auguste received the letter.

The door to the King’s study creaked as it opened; Auguste looked up from his desk to see Laurent entering the room. He was struck, suddenly, by the knowledge that Laurent was a man now, no longer the overly energetic little boy who loved flowers and sunshine and silly, frivolous things. It wasn’t that Auguste hadn’t known that his brother was a man before now -- of course he had -- but the weight of what he was about to do brought him a new appreciation of Laurent’s maturity. 

“Brother,” Laurent greeted, as he approached the desk. “You sent for me?”

“I did.” Auguste gestured to the armchair across from him and Laurent sat. “It seems the time has come for us to discuss a rather… significant matter.”

“I see.” A pause. “Has something happened?”

Auguste waved a hand in dismissal. “Oh, no, it’s nothing to worry about, I assure you. I have… received a letter, from the King of Patras.”

Laurent leaned forward in his chair. “And?”

“And…” Auguste took a breath. “He has offered his youngest daughter, Torsia, in marriage to you.”

He let it sink in. Laurent gave no outward reaction, except that his eyes had slightly glazed over. “Have you responded to him?”

“No, not yet. I wanted to hear your opinion first.”

“Well… it is a profitable political move,” Laurent began, emotionlessly assessing the situation as was always his first instinct. “A marriage with Patras would ensure valuable trading routes and a strong international ally, should we ever need one.”

“Yes,” agreed Auguste gently, “but we are not in critical need of a strong international ally at the moment, and there are other ways to establish trading routes. Such an arrangement is not imperative. I want to know what you really think.”

Auguste knew Laurent had been courting Damianos of Akielos these past two years. Their relationship had never been publicly announced, but they were open enough about it that most of the people in both of their countries probably knew. So Auguste knew Laurent would not want to marry Princess Torsia as surely as he knew the sky was blue. Quite frankly, Auguste would not care even if Vere was on the brink of war with Patras and this marriage was the only thing that could stop it; he would never force Laurent to do something he did not want. If Laurent declared he wanted to marry a goat, Auguste would let him; he wanted nothing more than for Laurent to be happy, no matter the cost.

After a long, silent moment of private deliberation with himself, Laurent said carefully, “Damen… asked me, informally, to marry him, during his visit last summer. I told him I would consider it. That is why I did not tell you -- I thought it was too soon. But I have had many months to think it over, and I… I have come to the conclusion that I do wish to marry him. And so I cannot marry Torsia. I am already promised.”

Auguste smiled wide, wider than he had in a long time. He reached out and took Laurent’s hands in his, and said, “Then you shall wed Damianos, and that is that.”

 

* * *

 

There were two weddings, the first in Arles and the second in Ios. The wedding in Arles was, in Damen’s opinion, garishly flamboyant, with long, wordy ceremonies and unnecessarily complicated clothing (though he had to admit, Laurent looked incredibly handsome in his white wedding attire). The wedding in Ios was simple, elegant, and most importantly, featured chitons. It was no secret that Damen thought Laurent to be the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on, and he made sure to tell him so as often as possible. 

Laurent was asleep now, lying peacefully on the bed -- their bed, Damen giddily reminded himself. Laurent was his husband, and this was their bed. He had lost track of how many times they had made love in this bed.

“You’re staring.”

Damen jumped a bit in surprise. Laurent’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze slightly unfocused in the darkness, and he smiled languidly.

“I’m sorry,” Damen said softly, though he really wasn’t sorry at all. “I can’t help myself. I didn’t know you were awake.”

“I wasn’t,” Laurent yawned, “your staring woke me.” He stretched like a cat, then began to trace idle patterns on Damen’s bicep. “What time is it?”

“Almost sunrise, I’d say,” Damen replied, using the arm that Laurent wasn’t touching to run a hand through his silky golden hair. “There is still time to sleep.”

“But you won’t sleep,” said Laurent. “You will stay awake and watch me.”

“Maybe,” Damen admitted. “But how can I be expected to sleep while the most beautiful man in the world sleeps next to me? I must savour you.”

“There will be plenty of time to savour me in the morning.”

Damen smiled and tucked a stray lock of hair behind Laurent’s ear. “I wish to savour you all the time, for the rest of time. Forever and always. I love you, Laurent.”

Laurent leaned up to place a kiss on his husband’s lips. “And I love you, Damianos.”

 

* * *

 

“Where are you going?”

Laurent turned in the direction of the voice. Sitting in an alcove to his right was Nicaise, the mouthy performer who had taken to commenting on everything Laurent did. Laurent didn’t mind him much; in fact, he quite liked the boy, who at only eleven had managed to get a job in the palace in Arles thanks to his incredible talent for dance. He would be turning fifteen soon, but it seemed he was no closer to outgrowing his snarky personality. 

“To the gardens,” said Laurent simply.

“Why?” Nicaise crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. “Is your giant husband waiting to fuck you there?”

Laurent shrugged. “Perhaps.”

When Nicaise realized he wasn’t going to get a rise out of Laurent, he leaned back against the stone wall and closed his eyes. “Well. Have fun, then. Or don’t. I don’t care.”

Laurent, who was used to this from Nicaise, and could hear the fondness beneath his indifference, said, "Thank you."

 

* * *

 

Tiny white flowers tickled his ears as Damen pressed kisses to the side of his neck; the sun shone down from the bright blue sky and made everything look curiously ethereal. Laurent and Damen were lying in the grass splayed out in opposite directions so that when Laurent turned to look at his lover, he was looking at him upside down.

Damen angled his head so he could kiss Laurent soundly on the lips. The maneuver was made slightly awkward by their positions, but they managed. They were both smiling when they drew apart.

“Didn’t I tell you the gardens in Arles were beautiful?” Laurent teased, gently.

“They are,” agreed Damen. “Not as beautiful as the ones in Ios, but any place is beautiful with you in it.”

Laurent blushed and looked away. “Sometimes I think you only like me for my superficial physical qualities,” he said, though he knew it was not true.

Damen played along. “Sweetheart, you could look like a troll and I would love you anyway, because you would have your brilliant mind and your incredible wit, and _that's_ what I love about you.”

“So if I were, say, a very intelligent and very witty demon, you would love me still?”

Damen laughed, and the sound of it soothed Laurent’s soul. “Right now, I’m having a hard time believing that’s not what you already are.”

Laurent grinned and pressed his lips to Damen’s dimple.

The two of them lay there for a long time. Damen picked at the flowers that grew around them and offered them to Laurent, and Laurent accepted them as though they were the most lavish of gifts, until he had amassed a pile of them, which he fully intended to have pressed into a book as soon as they worked up the energy to walk back to the palace. For the time being, however, the two of them were perfectly content to just listen to the birds and feel the gentle wind on their faces.

Eventually the sun began to set and Damen nodded off, and as Laurent watched him sleep, he thought about how much he loved gardens; how he loved flowers and sunshine and how he had always loved them, ever since he was a boy; and he thought, wistfully, that he was so happy, it felt like he had never grown at all.

**Author's Note:**

> 1 kudos/comment = 1 kiss Damen gives Laurent ;)


End file.
